


Some Days

by innersanctuaries



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 16:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21305393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innersanctuaries/pseuds/innersanctuaries
Summary: He spent his days in a dull haze. Some days he pulled himself out of bed. Others, he didn’t. Some, he managed to smile, but those hadn’t come for months after what happened at Neibolt. Others, he couldn’t even manage to get his eyes open. It hurt too much to open them to a world without those big brown eyes that said everything that perfect mouth hadn’t. Everything that would never be able to be said.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 41





	Some Days

**Author's Note:**

> Nanowrimo is great to get your ass in gear and write, huh? I'm definitely not caught up, but progress is being made and fics are being written. Including this one.
> 
> Thanks to MJ for the sad-ass song inspo, The Ghost of You by 5SOS (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-T-vhGL9fP8)

He spent his days in a dull haze. Some days he pulled himself out of bed. Others, he didn’t. Some, he managed to smile, but those days hadn’t come for months after what happened at Neibolt. Others, he couldn’t even manage to get his eyes open. It hurt too much to open them to a world without those big brown eyes that said everything that perfect mouth hadn’t. Everything that would never be able to be said.

Richie couldn’t seem to forget the fact that Eddie shared a grave with a fucking clown demon. There was no tombstone he could visit and cry at like a weepy girlfriend. There were no flowers he could leave somewhere, not without leaving them for something he cursed more than he cursed himself for this whole fucking thing. But there was nothing he could do about it, that’s what his fourth therapist told him. He’d fired her too. 

They didn’t know that there was something he could have done about it. They didn’t know about the Deadlights, not the way he did. They didn’t know that he could have pushed Eddie to the side, that he could have moved them so both of them could be here right now. So maybe Richie could have told him how much he loved him, maybe Eddie could have said it back. But he didn’t see that in the Deadlights. He just saw Eddie die, and then he saw Eddie die for real because he was just one second too late. Just one.

The amount of people that had restraining orders against him was ridiculous, and entirely Eddie’s fault. Yelling his name and grabbing people that looked like Eddie was a bad habit, but somewhere deep down, he couldn’t grasp the idea that he was truly dead. There were so many restraining orders, but none of them were actually Eddie, so he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

His financial advisor, Ella, would ask him why he kept buying airplane tickets to Maine if he was just going to throw them out anyway. He wouldn’t answer, but he would get her a vacation to Hawaii just because he could. Richie was listening every time she told him about how excited she was to propose to her girlfriend on their anniversary, he figured it was the least he could do. He figured he’d live vicariously through her. She cried when she thanked him, and he cried too. 

Ella asked him about Eddie, and he told her everything. His stupidly perfect skin that he’d somehow maintained from when he was a kid, just a tiny thing. He’d always been the smallest, but his personality was the largest of them all. His eyes, how they crinkled up when he smiled, they glittered with mirth when they joked, and they were dangerously fiery when they fought. 

He told her everything, and by the time he told her about how it felt to be covered in the blood of your dead best friend, she was crying with him. Richie got the first real hug he’d gotten in a while. They sat like that for a while, hugging on the floor and crying for everything he’d lost. He decided Ella was getting a big-ass raise. 

On good days, he’d impulse buy things off of sites he supposed Eddie might like. He had at least four hoodies identical to the one he’d taken out of Eddie’s things. Different colors, of course, but his nonetheless. Richie still hadn’t washed the one he’d taken. It still somehow smelled like Eddie, all these months later. Or maybe it was just him.

He’d always leap up and practically skip to the door when he heard the telltale knock of the postman. His name was Jared, a really nice old man he always made sure to tip very generously. On bad days, Jared would give him tootsie rolls. He always knew when Richie was having a bad day, even when he thought he was doing a good job of hiding it. When he asked what gave it away, Jared simply told him it was all in the eyes. Richie had closed his eyes and walked back inside with his tootsie rolls. 

It was a bad day, and he heard Jared coming up to the door. He must have gotten new shoes, because his gait sounded different. It sounded familiar. The knock was different, three shaves and half a haircut, and that was  _ Eddie _ at the door, it had to be. 

It wasn’t a bad day anymore, because standing there in front of him was Eddie Kaspbrak himself. Giving Richie a once-over, he grimaced.

“You look terrible. Hey, is that my hoodie?”

Richie wished he could say that he confessed eloquently, dramatically, romantically, but all that came out was a choked sob. 

“Hey, wait, don’t cry,” Eddie cooed, taking Richie into his arms.

He cried. Eddie walked them to the couch and Richie cried for hours. Sobbing into Eddie’s chest, Richie held him tighter than he ever had before. This time, he wasn’t letting go.

“I love you, Eds,” He managed to hiccup out, somewhere around hour three.

There was a very long, very drawn out silence where Eddie simply ran his fingers through Richie’s hair and breathed, actually  _ breathed _ . 

“I love you too, Richie.”

Their first kiss was kind of disgusting and a little snotty, he knew that from the way Eddie winced afterwards, but it was okay. It was all okay, because now Eddie was here and Eddie was alive. He was alive, and he loved Richie, and that was all that mattered. 

“Okay, but you still haven’t explained why you stole my fucking hoodie, Richie.”

Snorting, Richie smiled wider than he had in a year. It was a good day.

**Author's Note:**

> I love Ella so much, her girlfriend is named Aliya. I'd die for them both, and also for Jared. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed it! Please comment feedback, it helps keep me motivated and helps me know what you guys do and don't like!
> 
> Follow me on instagram at archangelica_angelica or on tumblr at eddiesdeaddie if you want to get in touch or just to watch me shitpost!


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